


the perfect resort

by thisissirius



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Finds Out, Episode Tag, M/M, episode coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>arthur is dying and he needs to make his peace. merlin is a sorcerer and he needs to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the perfect resort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myfoolisheart](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=myfoolisheart).



> this was written for maz for the occasion of her birth. happy birthday, darling. sorry this couldn't be happy!
> 
> i just needed to get my arthur feelings out of the way, i'm sorry.
> 
> thanks to kells and abby who helped get this into shape. all remaining mistakes are definitely my own to pay for!

"I'm a sorcerer," Merlin says.

He's wrong. He can't be a sorcerer because Arthur would know. When he says so, Merlin just keeps telling him, keeps crying like his whole world is breaking. Arthur’s no coward but he wants to run, to get away from Merlin before he has to believe him. It's not until Merlin's casting a spell - using magic in front of him - that Arthur knows it’s not a lie and somehow, he thinks maybe he always has. That doesn't stop him from trying to twist away from Merlin, to feel like he's crawling out of his own skin with the need to get away. "Leave me," he says instead, because Merlin has never denied him something when it's been for his own good. "Leave me."

Merlin does, with protest because it’s still Merlin, but he does and Arthur - Arthur tries to reconcile what he knows with what he feels.

 

 

If he cares to analyze his feelings, he knows that he’s not angry at Merlin. He’s hurt at the betrayal, feels it tucked deep in his chest. It’s akin to the sword in his chest but the pain is worse; he thought he knew Merlin. He _trusts_ Merlin. Merlin’s his one true friend, the person he can always rely on and turn to and know that he’s getting what he needs. Right now everything feels off kilter, makes him feel as though he’s out of step with his life. Merlin is a sorcerer. Merlin can do magic. Merlin is a traitor.

How many people have been killed in Camelot for bearing magic the way Merlin does? Arthur sends so many people to death for being _less_ than Merlin. He remembers Gaius’ words about Merlin’s power, harbours them close and doesn’t quite believe them. Merlin’s never seemed especially powerful to Arthur. Except when he really thinks about it, Merlin is; when he’s pulling the entire world into focus for Arthur, making him believe in himself when he isn’t sure he can. Merlin knows Arthur better than Arthur knows himself, sometimes, has faith and loyalty in and for Arthur in ways that nobody else is ever going to have. The contradiction of feelings is overwhelming.

He snipes, makes comments about Merlin, his magic, the lies. He wants to be angry, he wants to make this feeling of betrayal last but Merlin stays it all, refuses to rise to Arthur’s bait and just cements his loyalty and duty deeper into Arthur’s heart. That he cares for Arthur is always obvious, nobody can refute it, but Arthur’s never considered what that means. He thinks about it all;

The times that things have gone their way when everything seems futile. The times he’s been on the edge of death. He remembers the Questing Beast, knows that he’d made peace with the fact that he was going to die, remembers watching Merlin walk out the door with only a _till the day I die_ on his lips. Arthur wants to crawl out of his skin, wants to run and scream until his voice is raw. He’s no stranger to sacrifice but he’s beginning to realize that neither is Merlin. This dream of Camelot, this united lands of Albion that they’ve created, is bound to both of them. His Kingship and Merlin’s - Merlin’s _magic_.

 

 

He’s no longer hiding and it’s something. Arthur doesn’t know what to call it; Merlin sits straighter, looks more comfortable in his skin and Arthur thinks about what that means. Merlin’s been hiding for years, pressing down parts of himself that should be natural. Arthur doesn’t know what he’s likely to do if someone tells him to repress his swordsmanship, to hide who he is. He thinks he might go insane, but Merlin never has; Merlin’s always been the voice of reason and wisdom, not that Arthur’s ever going to tell him again. But he’s been hiding. He’s convinced Arthur that magic is bad, convinced Arthur to shun magic because it’s better for Camelot, for Arthur’s continued safety.

He asks because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Why did you never tell me?”

Merlin’s answer is almost flippant but Arthur knows there’s something deeper there. He doesn’t know what he would have done. When he says so, Merlin suprises him again. Merlin is always surprising him and he feels his heart constrict with the, “I didn’t want to put you in that position.” It’s almost frightening to have the extent of Merlin’s loyalty thrust into his face, to know how deep it runs. Merlin’s fear of death is nothing compared to his fear of having to lose Arthur and it’s thinking about this, about the ways Merlin puts Arthur’s safety - Arthur’s love of Camelot - above even his own life, that makes Arthur know that Merlin is still the same.

 

 

“It’s all part of my charm,” Merlin says, his smile uncertain.

He shouldn’t be uncertain and Arthur knows it; he shouldn’t ever have to hide who he is. Arthur’s always mocked Merlin for being an idiot but even after he says it this time, he knows it’s not true, has never been true, not really. Merlin’s always had a deep wisdom, a deep intelligence behind everything he says, and it’s the first time he’s thought about Gaius’ words and known they’re right. Merlin _is_ a powerful sorcerer and maybe he’s never known quite how much, but now he does. Maybe Merlin’s power isn’t only in his magic, but in his words and feelings and loyalty, in his _everything_.

Merlin hides their path, turns the Saxons off of their trail and never asks, never wants credit. Arthur doesn’t understand.

 

 

He’s dying.

He knows he isn’t going to make it to the lake, has known for a while. He doesn’t know how to word it, doesn’t know how to convince Merlin to let him go, to let this lie. He knows he needs to tell Merlin things, things that he knows Merlin needs to hear.

Never change. Always be you. An apology. All these things Merlin deserves and more but he doesn’t know how to tell Merlin in a way that will matter. He’s a dying King whose grip on this throne - and his life - is steadily slipping through his fingers. He’s hurting, dying and aware that he’s got things he needs to say. When he does, when he throws them out for Merlin to hear, Merlin takes them but doesn’t react the way Arthur thinks he will, doesn’t take them and _know_ that he’s going to lose Arthur. Perhaps he doesn’t want to and that hurts worse than the sword still embedded in his chest. 

Just when he thinks he’s getting somewhere, that maybe Merlin understands, the horses shy and run. 

Morgana.

He wonders what happened to her, why Merlin blames himself, but he doesn’t want to know. His words affect her, for all that she’s haughty and magnificent afterward. Merlin kills her like he has so many others before her so that Arthur can live. Arthur doesn’t know where to put that, makes a jibe about peace being because of Merlin, but perhaps it’s not peace to the city, to their Albion. Perhaps it’s a peace for Arthur.

It’s too late to save his life. He’s at peace with everything and he can go, can die knowing that Merlin’s looking after his city, his wife, his everything. Merlin is going to fight, he knows this with a deep certainty, but Arthur’s will is stronger.

“Just hold me,” he asks, adding a, “Please,” because Merlin will not refuse.

He doesn’t; he holds Arthur and Arthur feels at home. Feels like everything he’s done has mattered to someone, will continue to matter to someone. He doesn’t let himself think about what Merlin will do after, only wants Merlin in the now. They’ve done this together, they’ve always been made for the other and Arthur doesn’t remember what his life was like before Merlin shoved himself into it and refused to leave. He doesn’t think he wants to; Merlin is as much a part of Arthur as he is to Merlin and it makes sense, feels right in the way nothing else ever has.

A goodbye isn’t enough for Merlin. He deserves so much more.

“Everything you’ve done, I know about. For me. For Camelot. For the Kingdom you helped me build,” and he knows it’s true. Knows it like he’s ever known anything; looking into Merlin’s eyes and seeing their years reflected back at him. Albion is theirs, something they forged together with pain and loss and pride. He loves this man, loves Merlin with a fire he can never hope to replicate, that he thinks maybe nobody can ever replicate.

“You did that without me.”

He says maybe but he means, has always meant, _never without you_.

“I want to say something I’ve never said to you before. Thank you.”

It feels like a conclusion. Feels like it’s for more than just this, for more than just Camelot and his Kingship. (”Arthur!”) Feels it until he doesn’t feel anything at all.


End file.
